


I Found Something In A Lightning Storm

by etherealniallhoran



Category: GOT7, SHINee, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Anorexia, Bipolar Disorder, Bulimia, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Eventual Relationships, Fluff, GOT7 - Freeform, Hospitalization, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Hospital AU, Mental Ward, Mental ward AU, Narcissism, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, SHINee - Freeform, Self-Harm, Suicide, bangtan - Freeform, bts - Freeform, hopefully you guys like it though, literally yes i'm including three bands but, may add more tags as story develops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10191899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherealniallhoran/pseuds/etherealniallhoran
Summary: Mark Tuan is admitted to a mental hospital while struggling with an eating disorder. During his time in Heron's Peak he makes some unintentional friendships, suffers heartbreak, and ultimately tries to make it through life as peacefully as possible.





	1. Chapter 1

Mark stared at the bland building. Heron’s Peak. What kind of name is that? He scoffed, pulling the small threads from the frayed sleeve of his flannel in a bleak attempt to make the line straight again. He hated frayed edges. Frayed edges were bad. Bad. _Why didn’t I pick a different shirt? Fuck fuck fuck._ When pulling the threads wasn’t enough, he led his nails to his wrist. 

“Mark, you’re scratching again.”

“S-sorry, Mom.”

_I shouldn’t be here._

Scratching wasn’t really cutting. He had explained that to his therapist back at home. He just scratched when the voices got too loud. He scratched to make more noise than they could. He scratched to distract them. To distract himself.

Heron’s Peak looked more like a prison than a hospital. Its walls were painted tan, a tan that could have probably been mistaken for grey if it had not been examined closely. 

There were thin windows lining all four sides, and Mark counted up to ten floors before he lost interest. 

He sighed, pulling his bag from the trunk and avoiding eye contact with his mother. He didn’t blame her. She watched her son pass out on a track field not even a month ago. She heard him confess he was getting bad again. She found his hidden shame, the closet full of meals he’d supposedly eaten at school or at home while she was at work, when in reality they were forced into Tupperware and tossed away.

He had meant to clean that closet out one day, he really had.

“Actions have consequences.”

“What did you say, sweetie?”

“I’m just…nervous.”

“I understand. You’ll do this for me, won’t you? Won’t you, Markie?”

He nodded. Nodded with a soft smile, as if he had a real choice in the matter. If it wasn’t Heron’s Peak, who knew where he’d end up. He’d already lost track team privileges. That was certainly long-gone.

They walked toward the building together, her arm stretching across his back. She squeezed his forearm lightly. He knew what she was doing. She was smiling and pretending. She was smiling and pretending not to be concerned that she could feel each vertebra grazing against the fabric, that she could nearly reach the tip of her thumb with her forefinger.

They walked through the automatic doors to be greeted by a room full of white. White walls, white chairs, white tables. There was a large desk in the center of the room, on which sat a receptionist with a bright white smile. He greeted them warmly.

“Welcome to Heron’s Peak. How are you today?”

“We are wonderful, thank you.” 

_Speak for yourself._ Mark grimaced in his head, yet gave an outward smile. He scanned the boy in front of him. _He has to be younger than me. He’s just a kid…_

The nametag read “Volunteer Jeon Jungkook”, accompanied by a picture, undoubtedly him, smiling widely into the camera.

“Great. Are you admitting…?” He let the question leak out of his mouth. 

“My son, Mark. Er, Mark Tuan?”

“Tuan…Yes. Here is some paperwork we’ll need you to fill out, then I’ll call you back to introduce you to Dr. Kim Jonghyun.”

“Thank you.” 

The young boy nodded in response, handing her a clipboard. 

They chose a spot and sat, his mother biting the edge of the pen. We all have our fixations.

Suddenly, a ruckus arose near a door on the side of the room.

“Fuck this place!”

“You need help.” A crying, pleading feminine voice was heard trying to power over the domineering shouts, like the mew of a kitten faced against a trumpeting elephant.

“I don’t need any of this, fuck you. Fuck this place. No. Get off of me!”

Two male nurses in mint green scrubs appeared, carrying a young man off into a separate room. The man was kicking and screaming, causing a riot. Mark glanced wide-eyed at the receptionist, who flipped open a Highlights magazine and shrugged at him in a nonchalant, these-sorts-of-things-happen way.

Mark looked down at his feet. He already had a million questions and he hadn’t been officially admitted yet. He watched his mother return the clipboard and sit back down next to him. She placed a hand on his kneecap, then retreated, as if it was too boney, too knobby, too painful to think about.

He studied the marks on his hands. His nails were sharp, they drew blood sometimes. He didn’t mean it, really. Scratching wasn’t the same as cutting. He’d explained that to his therapist back home…

“Mark? Mrs. Tuan? We can go back now.”

He jolted upright and followed the young boy. 

“You’ll probably see a lot of me, you know,” He began to talk, “I’ll wake you up, or tell you light’s out. I distribute food sometimes, and monitor lunchtimes... I’m Jungkook by the way.” He shook Mark’s hand quickly before stopping at a door. 

“This is Dr. Kim’s office. I’ll see you later today, most likely.”

“Thank you, Jungkook.” Mark watched the boy walk briskly away. He turned to face the office. There was a large desk at which a man sat, leaned back cooly in his chair. There were three more chairs in front of his desk. Mark and his mother sat next to each other.

Dr. Kim had sharp features, a prominent jawline and a clean haircut. He wore a white jacket over a light blue button up. He smiled instantly.

“Hello, welcome to Heron’s Peak. Our main priority is to keep your stay as pleasant as possible.”

He spoke as if he was the head of a Hospice center. Mark wasn’t sure which he’d prefer. 

“Now, I’d just like to ask you a few questions, Mark.” He glanced at a sheet of paper. “It seems as though you’ve been admitted for issues with disordered eating…”  
The questions began. Mark had been given this test before, but it was one for which he’d never studied. There was no right answer, there never was, but the words tasted bad when they left his mouth. _Yes, I think about food all the time. Yes, I’d find that I weighed myself numerous times a day, that is, until my mother began hiding the scale. No, I don’t self harm._

His mother inhaled quickly, as if she was preparing to share a thought.

“Mrs. Tuan?” _Shit._ He had hoped the doctor hadn’t caught that.

“He…he tends to scratch himself.”

“Scratching isn’t cutting.” Mark repeated this speech exactly as it was in his mind. 

“Do you intend to harm yourself?” Dr. Kim leaned forward, clasping his hands together.

“I have no real intentions of harm. I just need to make noise. I need to be louder than them.”

“Who?”

“He hears voices.” 

“I don’t. I mean, not voices of people who aren’t there, just…thoughts. Loud thoughts.”

“Intrusive thoughts?”

“Right.”

“What do they say?”

“They don’t say. They just remind me. Especially when my shirt isn’t right, or my food is touching, or the volume isn’t on the right number…”

“I understand.” Dr. Kim smiled. Mark didn’t.

“I think we’ve covered everything. Do you have any questions before we get you settled in your room?”

“Yeah, what did that guy do?”

“Who?”

“They carried a guy out of here. He was shouting.”

“I can understand why you’d be worried, but it’s nothing terribly bad. Unfortunately, I can’t go into detail. Doctor-patient confidentiality.” He winked. 

Mark nodded. 

“Now, I will leave you with your mom for a few moments, as she can’t join us from this point on. I will return shortly to bring you to your room. Jungkook will come to sort your belongings.”

“Sort my…?” He didn’t finish the question, the answer coming to him as the younger boy stepped in to take his bag. 

“May I?” He waited patiently and Mark handed him the bag. “Thank you.” He gave a slight bow and left Mark and his mother alone.

The air was thick. He watched his mother’s eyes brim with tears. 

“I just want you to be healthy again.”

“I know.” He pursed his lips and twiddled his thumbs.

“Am I a bad mother?” She whispered this, and he wasn’t sure if it was geared towards him or herself.

“No,” he whispered back, wiping a fallen tear from her cheek with his thumb. She sighed. 

He held her. It was all he knew to do.

Dr. Kim knocked and opened the door. 

“Are you ready?”

They both nodded, standing up. Mark followed the doctor down a long hallway and into an elevator.

“You will have a roommate. His name is Kim Yugyeom. He’s a nice boy, a rather quiet type. I expect you’ll both get along fine.”

Mark heard the final sentence as more of a warning than a statement. He wondered what discourse between roommates would create. They stopped unexpectedly at floor eight, at which a young man entered, about his age. Mark recognized him as one of the male nurses dealing with the unsavory previous patient. 

“Seokjin, it’s good to see you. Great way to start your shift, huh?”

“You’re telling me.” The man pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s a biter.”

Mark blinked. Dr. Kim gave the nurse a knowing nod.

“We have another new patient for your floor.” He gestured toward Mark. “Say hello to Mark Tuan.”

“Glad to meet you, Mark. Please, call me Jin.” The nurse extended a hand, which Mark took in a soft handshake. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He smiled.

The elevator stopped at floor number twelve. The doors opened, showing another long hallway lined with rooms. Jin walked into a break room. Dr. Kim lead Mark to room number 1204. He knocked.

“Come in.”

“Hello, Yugyeom.” Dr. Kim greeted the patient. He was a tall, broad shouldered blonde boy. 

“Good afternoon, Dr. Kim.” He nodded, putting down a book he had been reading.

“This is your much-awaited roommate, Mark.” 

Yugyeom smiled softly, and Mark could feel himself being analyzed. 

“Hello.” He stood up.

“H-hi.” Mark immediately looked to the ground.

“Well, I’ll let you two get to know each other. Have a good first day, Mark.” Dr. Kim made his way out of the room and down the hall. Yugyeom sighed. 

“That’s the last you’ll see of him, hopefully.”

“Hopefully?”

“Yeah, you either want to visit that man’s office, or you hope you never have to see it. Ninety percent of the time, his office means trouble.” Yugyeom sat back on his bed, a small twin pushed against a corner of the room. On the other corner was an empty, identical bed, on which was his bag. 

“Kookie dropped that off just a second ago.”

“Kookie?”

“Jungkook? You didn’t meet him?”

“I didn’t know he had a nickname.”

“Ah. So, what got you admitted?” He slung his legs onto the bed and leaned back on his elbow, resting his chin on his knuckles, which were red and raw.

“Anorexia nervosa. And they want to work on my obsessive-compulsive disorder too.”

“Hm.” 

“And you?”

“Bulimic.” He let the word leave his mouth as if he’d said it a million times and it bored him.

 _They roomed me with a bulimic. Of course they did._ It took all the strength in his body to keep his eyes from rolling. This was going to be fun.

“So mealtime is at six-thirty. Just prepare yourself.” Yugyeom opened his book back up. “And you aren’t like, stuck here all day. There’s a couple activity rooms and stuff.” He shrugged.

Mark nodded. “Thanks. I think I’m gonna go check that out. It was…nice meeting you.”

“Ditto.” 

Mark closed the door behind him, letting a groan escape his mouth. He didn’t expect he’d like his roommate, but he was giving Yugyeom the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was an off day.

He walked down the hallway and bumped into another nurse.

“Sorry, sorry I-“

“Didn’t look where you were going?” The nurse laughed. “It’s okay. No one ever does.”

“I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” He cocked his hip casually. “You new?”

“Y-yeah. I’m Mark.”

“Hi Mark. I’ll probably get more acquainted with you tomorrow. I’m Kibum, call me Key. I’d be more friendly but it’s the end of my shift and frankly, I’m tired.”

“It’s okay.” Mark laughed. The nurse nodded and continued down the hall. 

Mark found an activity room in which a small group of boys had gathered. A tall, blonde boy made eye contact with him.

“Fresh meat.” The boy grinned, standing up. “C’mon and join us, Newbie.”

Mark gulped, walking into the room. 

“Hiya, Newbie.” Another boy waved. He was sprawled out on a cozy loveseat and staring at the ceiling. He had crazy black hair that seemed to go out in every direction. 

“Don’t let them scare you. They’re harmless.” A third boy spoke lazily in his direction. He smiled, standing up to greet Mark. He was tall and lanky. “I’m Taehyung.”

“Thanks for actually introducing yourself.” Mark smiled back. “I’m Mark.”

“I was gonna introduce myself first!” The blonde boy piped up, walking in front of Taehyung and extending his hand. He shook Mark’s eagerly. “Hiya Mark. I’m Jackson Wang, and I’ve been here so long I think I’ve forgotten what real life must feel like. “ He laughed and went back to his seat. “See. I’m nice.”

“Shove off, Jackson.” The boy on the loveseat cracked his knuckles. He looked over at Mark and stretched. “I’m Kunpimook. I don’t expect you to call me that, though. Call me Bambam.”

“Bambam?”

“You ever seen Flintstones?” Bambam asked.

“Well, yeah.”

“So, yeah. Bambam.” He looked up at the ceiling again. 

“Okay, cool.” Mark nodded. 

“Did you guys hear about the other new guy we got?” Jackson asked. “I heard he bit Jinnie.”

“He bit- no way!” Taehyung jumped excitedly. “I wish I coulda seen!”

“Yeah, apparently he’s a real nutcase. And get this- he’s rooming with Namjoon in 1202.” 

“They’ll get along great. He’ll make a racket and Namjoon will be…Namjoon.”

“Namjoon?”

“You’ll figure it all out.” Jackson stated matter-of-factly. “There’s a lot of…interesting characters here. Who knows why I ended up in a place like this…”

“Everyone knows, Jackson. You’re full of yourself and you break things too much.” Bambam interjected. 

“These two,” Taehyung gestured to the other boys, “have been here for four months. That’s the longest, out of our friend group, at least.”

Mark nodded. 

“And I’ve been here for a month. It’s a lot to get used to, but you’ll fit right in.”

“What’re you in for, anyway?” Jackson asked, resting his hands behind his head.

“Eating disorder.” Mark put it simply.

“And they roomed you with Yuggie? Yikes.”

“He doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Nah, totally. He’s kinda a stiff sometimes, though.” Jackson rolled his eyes. 

“I can see how you came to that conclusion.” Mark laughed. 

“I wish we could pick our own roommates. I mean, I like Sehun but, we don’t click, ya know? I have better friends than he does.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Taehyung waved him away like a gnat on a hot summer day. “How do you feel about good ol’ Heron’s Peak so far?” He kept intense eye contact with Mark. It was unsettling, yet endearing.

“I…guess it hasn’t grown on me yet.”

“I don’t think it will.”

He left it at that.


	2. Chapter 2

Yoongi woke up in a small, empty room. His head was pounding, the memories of the day before began creeping up on him.

His father had come home too early from work, drunk, sadly not unusual for eleven in the morning. In slurred speech the man demanded food from a wife with too many questions. Before she could get the first one out, he’d hit her, and Yoongi saw red. Then he saw black.

He came around to a screaming mother and an unconscious father, bleeding from his nose and ears. Yoongi could only remember that his knuckles were bruised and throbbing. He looked down at his hands. Now, they were bandaged.

“You up?” A voice from the doorway startled him. It belonged to a young man, who couldn’t have been more than 25.

“Y-yeah.” 

“You gonna be any trouble today?” 

“I-no. I didn’t realize I had been any trouble…I guess it happened again, didn’t it?”

“I guess so.” The man came into his room, sitting on a chair positioned next to the bed. “We want to move you in with your roommate today, but if you’re going to pose a threat to his safety…”

“I’m calm. I promise.” 

The man nodded in response. “Call me Jinyoung. I’m just a CNA here, but I’m always available to talk. I mean, unless I’m off the clock and at home.” He chuckled softly. “You might wanna apologize to Jin eventually.”

“Jin?”

“He’s the head night nurse, he’ll be here in a few hours. You kinda…bit him.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Um,” Jinyoung smoothed the wrinkles from his scrubs and stood up. “If you think you’re ready, we can move you in now.” 

“I think I’m ready.”

Jinyoung nodded and left the room. He returned shortly with another, slightly older man. 

“Okie dokes, sunshine. I’m Key, and I’ll be nice, but if you bite me I can’t make any promises.”

“It’s not a thing I usually do…”

“That’s what they all say.” He laughed, then stopped. “My sense of humor isn’t all that great, if I honestly offend you please tell me. I’ll cut it out.”

“No, no…it’s okay.” Yoongi even chuckled himself. He couldn’t believe he’d actually bitten someone this time.

“Well, ya ready to meet your roomie?”

The younger boy nodded. 

“Cool, let’s head out then.” 

Yoongi stood up and followed the two to floor twelve. He passed a few doors when they reached 1202. 

“Namjoonie.” Key called from outside. “Can I come in?”

“I never tell you no, Kibum.”

He opened the door and smiled. “I know. And you better start calling me Key or I might just have to do something about it.”

Yoongi peered into the room. A boy with pink hair stood in the middle of the room. He was tall, and he had soft features.

“Hi.” He nodded. “I’m Namjoon.”

“Yoongi.” He turned around to see that both Key and Jinyoung had left.

“Were you the one that…”

“Yeah, apparently I bit someone.”

“You don’t remember it?”

“I really don’t…”

“Wow. He wasn’t too mad about it, so don’t worry. Lunch is in about thirty minutes, by the way.”

“Oh, okay. Is that mandatory?”

“Yeah. It’s monitored too. Why? You one of the E.D. patients?”

“E.D.? Uh, no, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” He smirked. “You have an eating disorder?”

“N-no…”

“Then you’re not an E.D. patient.” He shrugged. “Jungkook dropped your bag off yesterday, I put it in the little closet over there.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“They take stuff they don’t agree with.” Namjoon warned. “So if you’re missing items, don’t worry. You’ll get them on free days.”

Yoongi sorted through his bag. His suspicions were confirmed. His iPad was missing. He wasn’t surprised, not even knowing why he packed it in the first place. He searched deeper and sighed contentedly when he found they had not taken his stress ball. 

“Those things work for you?” Namjoon asked from the other side of the room.

“Uh, yeah.” He squeezed it a couple times, then set it on the nightstand beside the free bed. “It helps a lot, actually.”

Namjoon nodded. “Did you wanna head to the cafeteria with me? I don’t know anyone around here too well yet, so I can’t really introduce you to anyone. Sorry.”

“That’s fine. How long have you been here?” They began walking toward the cafeteria. 

“A week and a half.” 

“Oh.” Yoongi didn’t ask any more questions. He wasn’t sure what to say. They walked into the small cafeteria, Yoongi finding it eerily quiet despite being nearly full.

\---

“Hey, check it out.” Jackson patted Mark eagerly, causing the boy to look over his shoulder.

“It’s Namjoon and…I think that’s the boy who bit Jin. Aw.” Jackson slumped in his seat. “He doesn’t look scary. He’s so small.”

“He’s not that small,” Mark spoke softly under his breath, bringing his attention back to the tray in front of him. He stared at an apple, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a cheese stick. He only saw numbers. Seventy, two-hundred, one-fifteen. He grimaced. 

“You gotta eat, or Jungkook will come over and talk you through it.” Bambam spoke lazily, nibbling on the apple. “That just makes the process worse.” 

Mark picked up the pb&j and tore it in half. He smashed the small piece of sandwich between his fingers, rolling it into a ball. Eventually he popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly. He looked over at Yugyeom, who was eating his food strategically. A bite from his apple, a bite from his sandwich, a tear from his cheese stick. Mark wondered what went through his mind, if this was a struggle for him anymore. He shrugged the thought off and ripped a thread off of his own cheese stick, placing it on his tongue as if it were as taboo as a strip of acid. Just then, a younger boy tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Is this seat taken?” He gestured towards the seat beside Mark.

“N-no, you can sit there.” 

“Thanks.” The boy plopped down, dropping his tray in front of him and digging in. “Oh,” he began through a mouthful of crunchy peanut butter, “I’m Hoseok.”

“I’m Mark.”

“Right, Mark. I think I saw you at group therapy yesterday. You’re new. You room with Yugyeom.”

“I do, right.”

“Well, I’m actually right across the hall from you in room 1203. If you need anything, holler and either me or my roommate Jimin will help you out.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you. Thanks.”

“No problem.” He smiled, showing two rows of perfectly straight white teeth. 

“So, where is Jimin?”

“He’s probably with Minho right about now. He usually has to eat his meals there, because in here he never finishes them.” Hoseok rolled his eyes. “I don’t get what’s so hard.”

Mark smiled, tearing apart another piece of his sandwich. He put the rolled up bread in his mouth, chewing carefully, watching Hoseok eat.

_I don’t get what’s so easy._

\---

Mark didn’t exactly enjoy the idea of group therapy. He was nearly silent his first day, save for introducing himself to the group.

Today was different, though. 

Dr. Lee Jinki lead group therapy. He was an unusually bubbly individual, all smiles and sunshine. Mark didn’t know how a man could be so happy in such a desolate area. 

“Mark, you didn’t speak a lot yesterday. How are you feeling being a part of us here at Heron’s Peak?”

“It’s fine.” He pursed his lips.

“Don’t you have more to say than that?”

“I don’t.” 

“Surely you do.”

“He says he doesn’t, he doesn’t. God, how hard is it to understand when we don’t wanna talk?” Jackson interrupted. 

“N-no…” Mark shrunk back in his seat. “It’s fine I just…I don’t want to be here so I guess I’m just trying to make the best out of this situation.” He felt his hand crawl slowly toward his wrist. 

_You’re stuttering._

_Did you button your shirt correctly?_

_You missed a button._

_You missed a button and your shirt is crooked and everyone can tell._

Of course, these thoughts were irrational. He knew that; he heard Yugyeom mutter something to himself after witnessing the boy button and unbutton his shirt five times in the mirror.

Compulsions, compulsions, compulsions.

“Mark? Mark.”

He came back to reality, feeling a stinging sensation in his wrist. Shit. He’d drawn blood again. 

“You alright, Mark?” Jinki repeated himself, concern beginning to shadow his face.

“I’m fine. I’m cool.”

“Okay, good.” He jotted something down in a notebook. “So, er, Yoongi. You’re new as well. How are you feeling?”

Mark looked across the room as the boy who was previously nicknamed The Biter began to talk. 

“I guess it’s okay here. The food could be better.” 

A light chuckle washed over the room. 

“I agree with you there, Yoongi.”

Mark was lost in his own thoughts and let the chorus of voices fade into the background. He came to when Jinki called the session to an end. 

The stretch of hallway between the group therapy room and Mark’s own bed seemed to go on forever. He was so tired, so unbelievably full. To think dinner was just around the corner…he just wanted to sleep.

He opened the door to his room and sat on his bed, the weight of the last two days finally crashing around him like a cold, stinging wave. Reality set in, and he began to cry. He didn’t know when he’d see his mom again. Her perfume was still grasping to his hoodie. He held it to his pale hollow cheeks, as if the scent alone were supplemental enough to return their color. 

Yugyeom walked in, witnessing his roommate fold like a failed paper crane, borne under the weight of sudden stress. He sat at the edge of the bed and grazed the older boy’s ear with his thumb.

Mark whispered shakily against his palm.

“Will I be okay?” 

Yugyeom nodded, asking no questions. Context in these situations was often unimportant.

“You will be.”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?” He brushed stray hairs from Mark’s eyes.

“Being stuck here. Never getting better. Recovering. Everything. I’m just scared.”

Yugyeom lied down beside the boy, wondering how someone nearly four years his senior could seem so small, so soft. Mark began to speak again.

“Maybe if I lie here long enough I’ll waste away.” 

“You’re already starting to.”


	3. Chapter 3

Im Jaebum loved the color red. He didn’t understand why, he just knew it made him feel something. He twirled his class ring around his middle finger. It used to fit on his pinky alone. 

The ring stood proud on his hand, garnished with a garnet, the letters JB imprinted on either side.

Jaebum missed high school. This would be his senior year, he could be playing in the volleyball competitions with his team this weekend. He could be holding a big trophy. 

But he wasn’t. He was here, staring at a bleak white ceiling, dreading focus group.

His focus group was led by Taemin, Heron’s Peak’s own pride and joy. If you had met Lee Taemin four years ago, you’d swear you’d have been speaking to a ghost. He was ninety pounds soaking wet, often connected to heart monitors and feeding tubes. To his parents, he was a lost cause.

To Heron’s Peak, he was an investment.

Now, he was twenty-four and thriving. He played golf, wrote a foodie blog, and led focus groups on eating disorder recovery. 

Jaebum rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that he disliked Taemin, it was just Heron’s Peak itself. He didn’t know what got him stuck here in the first place. He didn’t have a disorder. He just wanted to lose a little weight to avoid being kicked from the team. And what happened? He got kicked off the team anyway. They were ‘concerned for his health. Pfft. Then, his _mother_ got concerned because he spent too much time in the gym. For what? It wasn’t like he was getting built. He just liked keeping an eye on things.

“Focus group, Jaebie!” Bambam knocked on his door, waltzing in uninvited. “C’mon, you haven’t met the new guy yet.”

“I don’t care about the new guy. Can’t I just skip out?”

“And deal with Dr. Kim? I don’t think so. Come on.”

Jaebum sighed. The younger boy always had a point. He got up and followed Bambam to the meeting, dragging his feet.

\---

“What is focus group?” Mark asked Yugyeom, who was staring into the mirror as he brushed his teeth. 

“It’s just like group therapy, except all we talk about is food, eating habits, body image, and bullshit.” He spat into the sink. “It’s over in thirty minutes, though.”

“That sounds…fun.”

“It isn’t.” Yugyeom pulled a thick hoodie over his t-shirt, glancing back into the mirror and grimacing. “Let’s go, I guess.”

Yugyeom led Mark to a small room. In the center was a round table, lined with six chairs. There were three people already sitting. He recognized Bambam, but there were two other boys he’d not seen before. 

“Yuggie! Sit next to me.” Bambam patted the chair beside him. “Hey Mark.” He smiled warmly as Yugyeom pulled out the chair and sat down.

Suddenly, he heard a voice from behind him.

“I don’t recognize you. You must be one of our new members!” 

Mark turned around, soon face-to-face with a man he assumed to be Dr. Lee Taemin. He was tall, with sleek black hair and an angelic face. 

“Um, hello. I’m Mark.”

“It’s great to meet you, Mark. You can just call me Taemin. Go ahead and sit down, and we’ll all introduce ourselves officially.”

Mark took a seat next to Yugyeom and stared uncomfortably at his hands. 

“We’ll start with Jimin.” 

He looked up. The young boy across from him stood up and bowed. 

“I’m Jimin.” His voice was soft and light, like silk, and it seemed to linger around the room. “I am diagnosed with atypical anorexia nervosa.” 

“We don’t have to just talk about our disorders, right Jimin?” Taemin spoke carefully.

“Right…I like dancing. I used to be in ballet.” He sat back down, as if to say and that’s that. The boy next to him stood up.

“I’m Jaebum. I was diagnosed with anorexia athl…athletics?”

“Athletica.”

“Athletica. Which means, I spend too much time working out, I guess. Anyway, I love volleyball and sometimes I draw.” He sat back down.

“I’m Bambam. You know me. Uh, I’m your standard run-of-the-mill anorexic, and I didn’t have much of a life before here anyways, so there isn’t much about me to say. But, I’m from Thailand, which people seem to find interesting for some reason.” He shrugged and kicked back in his chair. Mark chuckled.

“I’m Yugyeom, I’m your roommate. I’m bulimic, and strangely enough, I love to cook. Isn’t it ironic?” He sat back down and began picking at the skin around his nails.

Mark stood up and gulped. “Uh, hi. I’m Mark. I was diagnosed with anorexia last year, and my mom took me off the track team because of it which sucks, because I loved track. I like running, and I also collect beanies, kind of. I have like, thirty. So, it’s either a collection or a fetish.” The other boys’ laughter filled Mark like helium, and he laughed along, sitting back down. He noticed that even Yugyeom seemed to smile wide, and saw that when this happened his mouth opened big enough to showcase his gums. 

“I’m glad you can get along with the others so well, Mark.”

“Me too.”

“Now, there’s been a lot of change for you so far, hasn’t there? Why don’t we each talk about something good that’s happened so far this week?” Taemin pulled out a clipboard and pen. “Jaebum, could we start with you?”

Jaebum cleared his throat. “Well, I made a new friend.” He glanced at Mark. “At least, I think we can be friends.”

“Y-yeah.” Mark smiled. 

“So, I guess that’s one good thing.”

Taemin nodded. “It’s always good to have support, especially in a place like this. What about you, Jimin?”

“Minho showed me pictures of his dogs, and he said he’d bring them by on the next free day.” Jimin looked down at his hands. 

“That will be fun. Our next free day will actually be on Saturday.” To this, the group of boys cheered softly. “Yugyeom, how about you?”

“Uh, well…” Yugyeom twiddled his thumbs. “I mean, I got a new roommate finally. It was kinda lonely.” He gave a light smile. 

“Absolutely. I remember lonely days between roommates here. Bambam, what about you?”

“I haven’t had anything good happen other than meeting Mark and the biter.” Bambam shrugged.

“The biter? Tsk. He has a name too. It’s Yoongi.”

“Biter’s more interesting.”

“I don’t think it is to him.” Taemin gave him a warning look.

“Okay, okay. It’s Mark’s turn, anyway.” Bambam rolled his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Mark, what is something good that has happened this week?” 

“Well, finding out we have a free day on Saturday is pretty good. Um, and meeting my friends, and…well, having Yugyeom there to help me out my first few days.” He smiled at the younger boy, who looked slightly shocked, but smiled back.

“That’s a wonderful thing, to have someone there for you.” Taemin smiled. “Okay,” he sighed, “now does anyone have anything they’d like to rant about?”

Bambam rose his hand high. Jaebum groaned. 

“You always take advantage of this section, don’t you?” 

“Like you ever rant. You just sit and stare. At least I participate.” Bambam bit back, crossing his legs. 

“Jaebum, it seems as if you might have something on your mind. Would you care to share?”

Jaebum nodded. “You know what? I do. I don’t know why I’m here in the first place. No offense to you guys, but I’m not sick. You guys have…well, you guys are in more pain than me. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about this one-on-one with Minho?” Taemin started.

“No, like I said, I have nothing to hide, I have no problems.” Jaebum shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

Bambam mumbled under his breath. “Someone’s in denial.”

“I’m not in denial,” Jaebum turned red, “I’m confused as to why I was sent here for losing a few pounds.”

“Jaebum…you were kicked off the volleyball team because of such a drastic weight loss.”

“I don’t see why. I thought they’d chuck me back when I weighed 220 pounds!”

“So did you start losing weight because you were afraid of being cut?” Taemin jotted something on his clipboard.

“I-no. No. I did it to be healthy.”

“You lost a concerning amount of weight in that time period,” Taemin stated, treading lightly as to not upset the other patients. “Did you realize that?”

“I guess I didn’t, but, I feel fine. I do.”

“Hm.” Taemin continued to write. “Well, why don’t we cut this session short, guys? Jaebum, I’d really like you to talk to Minho about this later today or tomorrow. Can you do that for me?”

Jaebum scoffed. “Yeah.”

“Anybody have any other questions? Comments? Concerns?”

There was a collective no, and everyone began to stand up. 

“Next week we will get into more depth, I just think we shouldn’t overwhelm our new member here today. Mark, I look forward to next week!” Taemin gave Mark a hearty pat on the back. The boy nodded and smiled. 

Jaebum walked briskly out into the hallway and set straight for his room. He knew he’d have to be up in a few hours for meal time, but all he wanted to do was lay in bed and talk to Youngjae. That is, if Youngjae felt like talking today.

Youngjae was his roommate, and his only close friend in Heron’s Peak. They could talk about anything, and he let the boy rant about whatever was on his mind. Today, he could feel several rants coming along. Of course, lately, Youngjae had been quiet. He didn’t blame the kid, he was in the same position. Stuck in a bleak, cold looney-bin, surrounded by sadness and sarcasm. No one had a positive outlook, not even the ones who graduated from their respective programs. Jaebum didn’t even know what his program was, let alone how to achieve recovery. How could he recover from something he didn’t have? He walked into his room and headed straight for the bathroom. 

As he passed the mirror, he looked away. He hated mirrors. 

He didn't understand why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for your support with this fic! i appreciate the kudos, bookmarks, and comments so much. thank you for reading xoxo


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!tw as this chapter contains depictions of self harm!!!

Of the few things he was good at, Youngjae excelled at hiding his feelings. It was a talent he’d had since childhood. He didn’t want anyone to worry over him, so he learned how to slap on a happy face. He learned how to comfort others even though it was rarely returned. He learned how to create a completely different personality and could turn it on like a lightswitch.

Being at Heron’s Peak was different. Here, he felt no pressure to hide his feelings. Then again, here, no one paid attention to him anyways. He was a wallflower, fading into the background. He was always silent at the cafeteria table, always spoke the least in group therapy. Of course, nobody noticed. 

Nobody, that is, except Jaebum.

Jaebum had a knack for knowing when Youngjae was getting really bad. He’d sit on his younger roommates bed, treading lightly around simple conversation. When Youngjae gave only short responses, Jaebum would understand. He’d then lay next to the younger boy, reading aloud from the Harry Potter series until Youngjae slowly fell asleep.   
Youngjae enjoyed the older boy’s company more than anyone else. Jaebum would listen to him, would talk to him, and would overall treat him like a genuine friend. The thought of Jaebum walking through the door every day, or walking with him to the cafeteria or group therapy was enough to make Heron’s Peak bearable. He often wondered what would happen if Jaebum were to graduate from his program and finally leave this awful place. Would he try to remain in contact with Youngjae? Or would he inevitably forget his old roommate?

_Of course he’d forget you. What’s so memorable about you to begin with?_

_Shut up._

He often had these types of conversations in his head when the bad thoughts came. He imagined a grotesque shadow creeping over him, hovering, whispering, grimacing.

_There’s nothing to remember. You barely pass through school with a C average, you are in no extracurricular activities. You have no aspirations. If you’re going to live your life this way, with no purpose, you might as well just die._

_I tried._

_And you failed, didn’t you?_

Youngjae shook the thoughts away and held his breath. He refused to let himself tear up. Today, he was alone. Jaebum would not return from his therapy session with Minho for another fifteen minutes. Youngjae reached into his closet and pulled out his bookbag. He lifted a torn then re-sewn lining in the very back and pulled out a miniscule silver blade.   
He was so relieved when he realized the sharp piece of metal had gone unnoticed by whoever searched his bags. He knew he had to be slick, and he was glad he had learned how to mend ripped pants in Home Economics class. He had torn the lining of his bookbag and slipped the blade in, sewing it loosely back up. When the volunteer boy returned his bag on his first day, the first thing he did was check for the mended tear. Untouched. Perfect.

Today was no different than any other time he found himself alone. He lifted his shirt, revealing a midsection covered in rows of scars. Some were fresh and red, some scabbed and purple. Some had long since faded, and they were white. Jagged. Ugly. Youngjae grimaced, grazing them with his forefinger before finding a spot he was satisfied with. He then pressed the small sliver of silver into his skin and dragged it across his waist. Small beads of bright red bubbled up to the surface dripping down to his belly button. He repeated this process several times, taking long slow swipes across his skin. He slipped the blade back in its hiding spot and lied back in his bed. The tears came. He always seemed to cry after the fact. 

The door opened and Youngjae quickly pulled his shirt down, thanking whatever gods were out there that it was solid black and wouldn’t show an ugly red stain. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Jaebum greeted him sarcastically, plopping on his own bed. 

“How did therapy go?” Youngjae tried to focus on playing cool, hoping Jaebum wouldn’t notice he was so upset. 

“It was…a lot.” Jaebum lied back, hands behind his head. “Minho was rough. What about you though?” He looked at the younger boy. “You’ve been crying.”

“I-“

“Don’t start with a lie because I already know. I can tell when a person is crying. Your nose and eyes are red.”

“I know. It’s just been a bad day.”

“I feel you there.” Jaebum sat back up. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No, I wanna talk about your day. What made Minho’s visit so bad? He’s a cool guy.”

“I know. It’s just, Taemin told him about focus group and how all my business was just thrown out there and- it’s like, all we talked about. And he made me look in a mirror and tell him what I see. What was I supposed to say to that? I mean, I just told him the truth.”

“And what’s the truth?” 

“Look at this and tell me.” He grabbed angrily at the loose skin on his stomach. “I work out every day and I still look like the obese freshman I was three years ago.” 

Youngjae stared at him in disbelief. He had an amazing body. Everything from his biceps to his calves was intricately sculpted. He was lean and fit, save for the small pouch of loose skin around his waist. Youngjae mentally attributed this to the sudden weight loss. From what Jaebum told him, he’d lost over ninety pounds in just a few months. How he did, Youngjae never asked. He didn’t think he wanted to know.

“Jaebie, you look great. You can’t see that?” 

“I-I guess I really can’t.” Jaebum looked down at the ground. Youngjae couldn’t believe it. He was watching the older boy begin to cry.

“No, no, please don’t do that-“ Youngjae sat next to him, rubbing his back. “Maybe this is the…the wake up call you needed, huh?” He watched as Jaebum nodded his head. “Maybe you were really sick, and that’s what caused that weight loss.”

“I was just working out-“ Jaebum’s voice began to break, and he hid his face in his hands. 

“We don’t have to talk about it. We really don’t. I’m not Minho.” Youngjae didn’t know what to do. Usually, this was happening the other way around. He’d be a sobbing mess and what would Jaebum do? Jaebum would lay with him. Jaebum would read. Jaebum would understand. “H-here Jaebie, lay down.” 

Jaebum did as he was told and rested his head on the pillow. Youngjae lied beside him and draped his arm over the older boy’s waist. He had forgotten about the previous events, and didn’t realize his shirt had ridden up.

“You’re-you’re bleeding.” Jaebum wiped the tears from his eyes. 

“It’s not important-“ 

Jaebum lifted Youngjae’s shirt. “Oh, god Youngie…” 

Youngjae avoided eye contact, ashamed of himself. He wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Jaebum ran his fingers across the old and new scars. It stung, but it was almost pleasant. The older boy looked him in the eyes. “I know it hurts. I- god.” Jaebum sat up. “I wish I could just take your pain away sometimes.”

“What?”

“Seeing you like this? It hurts, so bad.” Jaebum’s eyes filled with tears again. “You don’t deserve this, Youngie.” He gestured towards the boy’s stomach. “You deserve to be happy. You’re the only one in this place that gives a damn, you know.” He scratched the back of his neck and sighed. 

“I don’t deserve that.” Youngjae picked at his nails. “I don’t. I’m not in the mood to talk about myself today. I just want to focus on you. You never talk about your problems, Jaebie. You ignore them and push them down just to make everyone else happy.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“I-I know. Just hear me out, okay?”

“Fine.” Jaebum muttered. 

“Come here.” Youngjae took his hand and led him to the bathroom. They stopped in front of the mirror. Jaebum looked at the floor.

“Look up.” The younger boy squeezed his hand. Jaebum looked into the mirror. “What do you see?”

“Me.”

“What do you look like? What about you do you like, Jaebie?”

“I…I have a strong jawline. Um…that’s it.” He looked away again.

“Do you know what I see?” 

Jaebum shook his head.

“I see someone who takes care of themselves. Maybe a little too much. Look at your collarbones. Look at this.” He lifted Jaebum’s shirt and ran his hand along the boy’s hipbones. They protruded scarily, creating a gap between his stomach and the waistline of his sweatpants. “This isn’t normal.”

Jaebum began to weep, falling to the floor. He covered his mouth with his hands to silence the sobs. Youngjae crouched next to him. “Regardless, you’re one of the most beautiful people I know. Both inside and out.”

The older boy whispered something into the palms of his hands. 

“What? Tell me, Jaebie.”

“I need help. I need you.” Jaebum reached forward and enveloped Youngjae in a tight embrace. The younger boy sat in shock for a moment, then pulled him in even closer. 

“Jaebum,” he whispered, “I’m right here. I always will be.”

Youngjae felt Jaebum graze the back of his neck. He pulled back from the hug and looked Youngjae in the eyes. 

Youngjae began to speak. “Jaebie what-“

Jaebum silenced him with a soft kiss. Youngjae, having never been kissed in his life, couldn’t help but stare at him wide-eyed. His heart was beating faster than ever before. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry-“ Jaebum stood up, his face turning bright red. Youngjae laughed, hiding his own face in his hands. 

“No, no no, it’s okay.” Youngjae walked out of the bathroom and sat on his bed. “Wow.”

“Wow?”

“You’re going to think I’m so…” Youngjae sighed. “That was my first kiss.”

Jaebum laughed. “Mine too.” 

Youngjae lied back and rested his head on his pillow. Jaebum sat on his bed and picked up a book from the nightstand. “Want me to read tonight?”

“That would be nice.” 

“Okay.” Jaebum fumbled with the pages. “We stopped at chapter nine, I think.” 

“Sounds right.” 

Suddenly, Jaebum paused. “Uh, could I ask you something?”

Youngjae propped himself up on his elbows. “Sure, what’s up?”

“So, since that happened…is there any possibility of us becoming a…a thing?”

“Jaebie, are you asking me out or something?”

“K-kinda, I guess…yeah. Yes I am.” Jaebum smiled. 

“Then yeah, I think we’re a thing.” Youngjae lied back down. Jaebum hid his face in the book for a split second and returned to normal. 

“Well, that’s nice. Erm…ch-chapter nine, right?”

“Right.” Youngjae laughed. 

He listened to Jaebum read, and watched the way his mouth moved when he talked. He watched the boy’s eyes follow the words on the page, and how he smiled when he read a funny line. He watched Jaebum cock his left eyebrow up when he realized he’d skipped a line or came across a word that he’d never seen before. 

If someone were to ask Youngjae what happened in chapter nine of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, he wouldn’t have an honest answer. He was too busy reading Im Jaebum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully you enjoyed some 2jae. again thank you for the kudos! <3 leave a comment if you'd like, i love reading them. thank you for reading <3 xo


	5. Chapter 5

Yugyeom sat at the cafeteria table across from Mark, staring at the tray below him. He was too tired to deal with food; too tired to deal with the urge to stick his fingers down his throat. Of course, he was also far too tired to deal with a lecture from Minho if he were to get caught. He perused his plate. Spaghetti that had now grown cold from neglect, a soggy piece of buttered toast, a liter of water. They always pushed water intake here. He couldn’t deny the benefits of being hydrated, but he did hate the frequent bathroom trips throughout the night.

“Are you going to eat?” Mark asked, scratching his arm through his sleeve. 

Yugyeom rolled his eyes. “Like I have a choice.”

He watched as Mark surveyed his own plate, picking apart the limp noodles and bringing them to his mouth one at a time. Yugyeom decided he might as well get all of this over with, and took a big bite. 

“Hey guys.” Jungkook was walking past and stopped behind Mark. “How’s it going over here?” 

“It’s fine, Kookie. We’re eating, see?” Yugyeom bit a chunk out of his toast and chewed, giving Jungkook a puffy-cheeked smile. He swallowed. “Yummy.”

“I’m sure my work day would go by a lot quicker and a hell of a lot easier without your sass, Yugs.” Jungkook rolled his eyes and made a face.

“You love me.”

“’Course I do. You’re one of my favorites.”

“One of.” Yugyeom glanced over at Taehyung, who was busy stuffing his face and talking to Jackson. 

“Shut up.” Jungkook laughed and began to walk away. Yugyeom smirked and looked at Mark, who was still picking apart his noodles.

“Thanks for that, Yuggie.” The older boy spoke under his breath, “I thought he’d sit down with me or something.”

“Listen, right now he’s too far up Tae’s ass to even care whether we eat or not.” Yugyeom talked through a mouth of spaghetti. 

“What do you mean?”

“I heard from Jackson,” Yugyeom leaned in, lowering his voice, “that Bambam told him that Hoseok caught them making out in a supply closet.”

Mark almost choked on a noodle. “You’re kidding.”

“That’s what I heard. Through the grapevine, of course.”

The pair looked over at the end of the table. Jungkook was still standing there, laughing with the group of guys. At random, he’d playfully nudge Taehyung on the shoulder, laughing harder.

“Hm. I don’t know.” Mark went back to his food, separating his noodles, noticeably avoiding his bread. “Seems legit though.”

“As long as it gets Kookie off our back, I could care less.” The younger boy began chugging his water. He noticed Mark was tapping his leg. 

“How you feelin’?” 

“Not so good. Sick.” Mark mumbled, twisting the cap from his water. 

“Check the surroundings. Is anyone looking?”

Mark looked behind both shoulders, confused. He glanced back at Yugyeom. “N-no, why?”

Yugyeom snatched the piece of toast from Mark’s tray and began to nibble at it. 

“Yuggie-“

“Thank you. Guess I was hungrier than I thought.” Yugyeom shrugged as he finished the slice of toast and continued drinking his water. He winked at the older boy. 

He blushed. “N-no. Thank you.”

\---

Taehyung watched as the volunteer walked around the other tables. He felt Jackson’s strong hand gripping his shoulder.

“You’re whipped, man.”

“I am not.”

“Bambam told me.”

“Told you what?” Taehyung looked at him.

“What Hoseok told him.” Jackson lowered his head and gave Taehyung a devilish grin. The color drained out of the younger boy’s face. 

“He didn’t.”

“Oh yes.” Jackson nodded gleefully. “Oh yes, he did.” 

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “So what?”

“So what?” The blonde boy repeated incredulously, “so if you get caught, Jungkook could lose his job, you know.” 

“We’re careful.”

“So it’s true?”

“Shut up.”

\--

Jimin sat crouched in the corner of his bed. He’d just returned from mealtime with Minho, wishing just one day would come where he’d have the courage to face it on his own, and he could eat with his friends. He dog-eared a page in the book he was reading, set it on his nightstand. Hoseok came in. 

“Chiminie, we’re playing Scattergories in the lounge. Let’s get you out of here.”

He shook his head. 

“You can’t stay stuck in this room all day. Plus, you have to meet the newbies.”

“I already met Mark.”

“But what about the Biter?”

“Don’t call him that, Hobi.”

Hoseok frowned. “Come on. Just because you had to eat dinner in the office again doesn’t mean anything. Let’s get you out, get you talking to people. It’s gonna help.”

“Not everyone’s like you, you know.” The boy was adamant, curling his knees closer into his chest. He felt his ribs graze his thigh and his stomach churned. “Some of us need some alone time.”

“You’ve stayed in here every second of every minute of every hour of every day, save for meals and therapy.” Hoseok whined. “If anything, do it for me?”

“No.”

“Come on. And then I’ll never ask again.”

“No.”

Hoseok groaned. “Stop being so fucking difficult.”

“You’re my roommate, not my caretaker.”

“Jimin…” Hoseok sighed. “No. It’s fine. I’m done.” He lifted his hands in defeat. “Stay here.”

Jimin watched as he walked out the door, then begrudgingly got up to follow him. Sure, he’d rather be alone, but the thought of dealing with a salty Hoseok after the fact was quite unappealing. 

Hoseok noticed the boy behind him. “What made you decide to join me?”

“I don’t know.” Jimin shrugged. Hoseok shrugged back. 

They entered the lounge, and Jimin recognized Mark sitting next to Yugyeom on a loveseat. He saw Taehyung passing notepads to the other boys. Jaebum was resting next to Youngjae, their hands interlocked. He smiled. That finally happened, eh? About time. 

“Chiminie~” Jackson cried, rushing over to the boy. “Want to play Scattergories with us?” 

Jimin nodded, receiving a notepad and pen from Taehyung and sitting on a bright blue beanbag chair. Just then, two more boys walked in the room. Jimin recognized Namjoon immediately, the tall, softspoken boy who had befriended the nurses before the patients. The other boy Jimin only knew as the Biter. He was considerably shorter than Namjoon, with fluffy black hair and a deadpan expression. 

“Joonie, you’re just in time.” Jackson had piped up again. He was always the type to get the party going. “Your friend can get in on it too. Hi, I’m Jackson!”

“Yoongi.” The boy responded softly, shrinking back at Jackson’s loud personality. 

“Nice to meet you. Sit wherever you want and Taehyung will give you the stuff to play.” Jackson waved him off and sat at his own chair. Yoongi sat in a black beanbag chair next to Jimin.

“Sorry about him.” Jimin whispered.

“What?” 

“He can be, well, he can be a lot to handle. He’s just like that. He means well, though.” Jimin smiled softly.

Yoongi was taken aback. The boy next to him was so…how could he explain it? The only word that came to his mind was soft. Jimin was so soft, in his words, in his appearance, in his personality. The older boy blushed, lost in thought.

“Oh. No, that’s okay.”

“You said you were Yoongi?”

“Y-yeah, that’s me.”

“I’m Jimin. I’ve seen you around, but I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.” He held out a hand so small, Yoongi swore it resembled that of a doll’s. 

“Guys come on.” Jackson whined. “I’m ready to start.”

Yoongi shook out of his trance as he shook Jimin’s hand. He wondered if he’d ever get out of here, if he’d find the cause of the lightning storm in his brain, electricity pulsing through his chest so powerful it caused blackouts. He wondered if such a storm could be tamed, if he contained the power to do so. He wondered, as he looked at the happy-broken people around him, if everyone had a lightning storm of their own to tame.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is part one of a two-part bit regarding a particularly stormy day/night in heron's peak. as always, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy!

Kibum threw his scrubs into the industrial washer with a frustrated sigh. Jinyoung had followed him into the utility room with a fresh pair. 

“I’m glad you’re my size, kid.” The older nurse grabbed them and slipped them over his clothes. “I’m also glad you have the brains to have a spare pair on hand.”

Jinyoung shrugged. “You never know.”

“I guess you’re right.” He smiled. Just five minutes prior, no one would have caught Kim Kibum smiling. He was dealing with a very angry, very stubborn, very sick Jackson, who in the middle of cussing him out had blown chunks all over his shirt. Oh no, five minutes ago, Kibum was on a warpath. Sure, you can’t blame the patient for getting sick, but it was Jackson. Jackson would be the one to do that kind of shit on purpose. 

He had calmed down considerably, making his way to the breakroom. These were the days he wished drinking on the job wasn’t looked down upon. 

Just then, Jonghyun entered the breakroom. He looked surprised. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just been a long day.”

“I can understand that.” Jonghyun looked around to see if the coast was clear. He approached Kibum. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. I can’t stop.” He breathed on the nurse’s neck. Kibum shuddered. 

“I won’t lie, you’ve been on my mind too.” He grazed the waistline of Jonghyun’s grey dress pants.

“Come home with me tonight, Kibummie.”

“What about-“

“She doesn’t matter. We’re separated.” Jonghyun groaned. “She hasn’t been in the house since I came out. She can’t be around me.”

“Are you sure I’m not here just to fill in the gap she left?”

“Why would you say that?” 

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.” Kibum looked down at the floor.

“Key,” Jonghyun whispered. “You’re my everything. You always were. You always will be, okay? So don’t say things like that.” He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Kibum’s cheek, until he heard footsteps approaching the entryway. The two regained composure as Jinyoung came in. 

“Are you taking an extra lunch, Key? I won’t blame you if you do.” 

“Oh, um…actually, yeah. I think I need it.”

Jinyoung nodded and turned around. “Well, I’ll be on cafeteria duty if you need me.” He walked away.

Kibum turned to Jonghyun, pulling him close to engage in a quick, passionate kiss. “I’ll see you after my shift, I hope.”

“You know you will.”

\---

Yugyeom laid back in his bed, flipping through the notes he took during his group therapy. He wasn’t really reading, so much as he needed to keep his hands busy. He was bored, antsy, and worst of all he was stuck in an empty room. Mark had gone to his one-on-one with Minho, and their dorm was quiet. Yugyeom wasn’t sure whether he hated being alone, or whether he hated being away from his roommate. He and Mark spent a surprising amount of time together. They were practically inseparable. Yugyeom heard the doorknob turn. Mark peeked in. “I’m back.” He smiled.

“Hey. How’d it go?”

Mark sat on his bed. “As good as could be expected. Nothing really happened. We just talked about school.”

“An easy day. Minho’s good about that. I guess it’s from the years of dealing with Taemin.” He snorted.

Mark nodded.

“Something on your mind?”

“It’s supposed to storm today.”

“I love storms.” Yugyeom smiled. 

“I hate them.” Mark pulled his knees into his chest. 

“A lot of people feel that way. Why? They’ve literally never bothered me, even as a kid.”

“I don’t know, they make me anxious.” 

“Oh, I guess I can see that. Well, you won’t be alone. I’m here, and there are quite a lot of guys here who hate storms too.” 

Mark couldn’t help but let out a small smile. Yugyeom had the innate ability to take his worries away for a while. “I think I’m going to lay down for a while. Wake me up for dinner?”

“No problem.” Yugyeom wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he was considerably less anxious now that Mark was here. Being bored while the older boy slept across the room was much better than being bored and alone. He watched with admiration as Mark drifted to sleep, curled up in a ball. Yugyeom laid back on his own bed and synced his breathing with his roommate, feeling ever closer.

\----

Jackson sat on the floor of his room. His roommate, Sehun, had gotten the golden ticket. He was able to leave. Everyone was able to leave. He put his head in his hands. _I’m broken,_ he thought miserably. _Who are they sticking me with now?_ Sehun was the last of the original group to leave, that is, except…

The door to his room opened, and there stood Bambam, his bags in hand.

“Hiya, roomie.” He smiled.

“Thank god.” He got up, laughing and hugging the boy. 

“You didn’t think I’d fight for the privilege to be your roommate? You really don’t know me, do you?”

Jackson blushed. “Shut up.” 

Bambam set his bag on the floor and threw himself on the bed.

\---

Dinnertime wasn’t as hard for Mark as it had been before. He knew to pace himself, chewing his food slowly and following every bite with his water. He’d keep a steady conversation with Yugyeom as he did so, it seemed to make things better for the both of them. On the other side of the table, Jaebum was picking apart his macaroni and cheese. 

“Why do you do that?” Youngjae pointed at the debauchery on the older boy’s plate. The noodles were completely separate from the cheese. 

“Cheese is so gross.” Jaebum grimaced. 

“Do you really not like it or is it one of those, like, bulimia things?”

“First off, I’m not bulimic, I’m diagnosed with anorexia athletica. Second off, I don’t even have a disorder, so it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m still confused as to how you get diagnosed with a disorder you don’t have but alright,” Youngjae shrugged. “I’m just saying, that,” He gestured to the plate, “looks pretty disordered.”

“You’ve room to talk.” Jaebum mumbled. “Just because you’re my boyfriend doesn’t mean you can say whatever you want, you know.”

“I know, I know. Don’t get testy with me.” 

Jaebum sneered, continuing to pick apart and eat his noodles, leaving a mass of bright orange cheese. 

“Jaebum? You do have to clear your plate, you know.” Jinyoung’s sudden remark startled the boy. 

“Jesus, I know. I just don’t like cheese.”

“Bambam doesn’t like bread, do you see him picking his sandwiches apart?”

“Bambam doesn’t like anything.”

“Not the point. Eat it.”

Jaebum slammed his fist on the table. “I got it, okay?” He spoke through gritted teeth. 

“Any outbursts will get you a one-way ticket to Minho’s office, you know.” Jinyoung warned him and left without another word. 

Youngjae wasn’t sure, but he swore he saw tears brimming in Jaebum’s eyes.

\---

Kibum was waiting in the employee parking lot as he saw Jonghyun’s car pull up to the curb. He smiled, walking up to the door and sliding into the passenger seat. The rain had picked up and Jonghyun had set the wipers to full speed. 

“I love this weather,” Kibum sighed. “Perfect for a quiet night in.”

“I agree.” Jonghyun squeezed his thigh. They began the ride to Jonghyun’s house. 

The doctor only lived about ten minutes from the hospital, and they were pulling into the driveway faster than Kibum expected. He looked out his window at the nice two-story house. The two of them had only ever been together in shoddy hotels or his cramped one-bedroom apartment on the weekends. He felt a new kind of excitement at being able to set foot in Jonghyun’s own home for the first time. 

“Mi casa is finally su casa.” Jonghyun opened the car door for him and they walked to the front porch 

“I feel like I’m going to be greeted by her holding a shotgun.” Kibum said in a hushed whisper.

“What did I say? You know she stopped loving me long before I told her the truth about myself. We were basically roommates for the last year and a half of our marriage. So don’t talk like that.”

Kibum nodded and the doctor opened the large front door, revealing a tidy and modern sitting room. 

“Oh my god.” Kibum breathed, making his way slowly inside.

“I’ll give you the grand tour later.” Jonghyun laughed. “For now, how about some wine?”

“That would be nice.” 

He led Kibum to the kitchen, pulling a barstool from the island. “Have a seat.”

“Your place is so, so beautiful.” 

“Thank you.” Jonghyun began pouring a red wine into two large goblets. “Having you here makes it feel even more like a home.” He handed a glass to Kibum.

The nurse sipped at the wine. Rain pitter-pattered hard on the windows. 

“Here, let’s get comfortable.” Jonghyun led Kibum to the living room, in which stood a fluffy burgundy couch. A large flatscreen television hung on the wall directly above a fireplace, which, when turned on, Kibum realized was electric. He flopped on the couch and sunk into the cushions. “This feels so good.”   
Jonghyun chuckled and sat beside him, pulling a lever on the side, allowing them to recline. He pulled Kibum close to him. The nurse was already feeling the effects of the wine, mixed with the ever more intoxicating scent of Jonghyun’s musky cologne. 

“Yeah. This is nice.” 

“It feels right, doesn’t it?” The doctor whispered.

“Mm-hmm.”

Jonghyun took a big sip from his drink, as if he’d find more courage at the bottom of his goblet. 

“Is everything okay?” Kibum rubbed his knee, giving it a small squeeze.

“Y-you know it could be like this forever? Just you and me, and…and this?” He pulled Kibum in tighter. 

“I mean, yes?” Kibum furrowed his brow.

“Agh.” Jonghyun got up suddenly and left the room. Kibum stood up and paced. The man returned with clenched fists. 

“Key, I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…you bring something out in me. You make me forget my words. You make my heart, well…” He grabbed Kibum’s hand and held it against his chest. Kibum felt a rapid beat. 

“And it’s always like that. I always feel like this. And that’s okay. That’s perfect, actually. I never want to feel any different.” 

Kibum smiled. 

“We’ve been together for almost a year now. I know it’s been a rocky road, but it’s smoothing out now. You helped me open up, not only to myself, but to everyone around me. You helped me accept who I am. I couldn’t thank you enough for that. Which is why…aish.”

“What, Jonghyun?”

The doctor said nothing. He reached into his pocket and kneeled to the floor. In his hand was a velvet box.

“Wait-“

“K-kim Kibum…”

“What?!”

Jonghyun opened the box. A silver band, intricately decorated with an engraved pattern, protruded from its red pillow.

“I want you in my life, forever. Will you marry me?”

“Oh my god. Oh my god! I don’t know what to s- yes! Oh my god, yes, yes, yes!” Kibum cried as the love of his life slipped the ring on his third finger.

_To be continued._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued! storm pt 2 is headed your way asap! thank you for commenting, giving kudos, bookmarking, etc i really appreciate it so much! don't be afraid- tell me what you think! lots of love! thanks for reading! xx


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